


The Lovecats

by TheFandomLesbian



Series: Spencer's Raulson One-Shots [43]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Asylum
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bananun, F/F, major character dies but it is not Lana or Mary Eunice, raulson - Freeform, suggested suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23101564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFandomLesbian/pseuds/TheFandomLesbian
Summary: Lana Winters moved across the country after her wife was murdered in their own home. She now lives across the lot from the Briarcliff Psychiatric Hospital. Lana came in search of peace, but she has no idea how her world will turn upside down when a patient escapes from the hospital and runs to her home with the intention of befriending her pregnant cat.
Relationships: Sister Mary Eunice/Lana Winters
Series: Spencer's Raulson One-Shots [43]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1214643
Comments: 15
Kudos: 65





	The Lovecats

**Author's Note:**

> For a Bananun neighbors AU prompt: "I don't really like you, but you have kittens, so I'm going to be over a lot."  
> This was supposed to be a drabble, and for that, I sincerely apologize to both myself and the world around me.

Lana knew she should’ve hauled the cat off to the animal shelter from the moment she noticed it on the doorstep of her new house. She was a beautiful cat—a lovely dilute tortoiseshell with neat white paws, bold golden eyes, and a gravid middle. Lana did not need any additional stress. She had moved here to escape. They had, at long last, caught Wendy’s murderer. Lana could, in theory, be free. She had started her new life several states away, buying a cheap house on a deserted street. The few other buildings surrounding her were dilapidated and abandoned, save for a stretch of lawn more than a football field in length which separated her from the Briarcliff Psychiatric Hospital. The lawn was allowed to grow up with wildflowers into a field, so Lana could scarcely see the roof of the building from her back porch. 

The cat showed up only three days after Lana had moved in. She had the back door ajar, letting the sunlight in, when she heard the cat calling. Lana hopped up from her chair, book still in hand, and went to the screen door. Outside it, the gray and cream cat sat, her tail tucked over her paws. Lana’s brow quirked. “Well, hello there.” She opened the door to let herself out, but the cat darted inside and promptly jumped up onto her kitchen table. “You must belong to someone.” The realtor hadn’t told her the property came with a resident cat. _Why would they tell someone that? Nobody willingly buys a property that’s about to host a feral colony._ She held out her hand for the cat to sniff. “You’re big pregnant, aren’t you? I bet somebody dumped you.” 

The cat meowed, and Lana went to the cabinet. She could stand the company. “What do you say to some canned tuna, girl?” Lana knew all the tricolor cats were female—if the giant pregnancy wasn’t a giveaway. She opened the can and used a fork to cut up the tuna into manageable bits and put it on the table in front of the famished cat, who danced around in excitement. She buried her face in the tuna, gobbling with audible noises. Lana reached out, stroking her greasy, tangled fur. “Bony little thing, aren’t you?” 

Lana _should have_ shed all responsibility of the cat onto the appropriate powers. But she needed the company, and the cat needed her. So, the next day, she came home from the store with a bag of cat chow, some toys, some bowls, a cat bed, and a cat carrier. The cat trotted on into the carrier and went for a ride to the vet. 

Dr. Vonderhyde studied her on the table before him. “You’re probably expecting this,” he said. “But she’s pregnant.” 

“I figured. She showed up at my house yesterday. I just wanted to make sure she wasn’t microchipped before I claimed her.” _I’m pretty fucking lonely, to be claiming a cat._

“Are you going to make sure all of the kittens go to good homes? The last thing we need in this town is another set of intact cats with irresponsible owners.” 

Lana chewed the inside of her cheek. “Yes, I will. I figured I’d call the humane society and foster them until they could get fixed and get adopted—and I’ll get Daisy fixed, too, when she’s ready.” She didn’t know how the cat had earned that name, _Daisy,_ until she did. _Wendy always wanted a daughter named Daisy._ Spinning her wedding ring around her finger, Lana cleared her throat. “So she’s good on everything? Vaccines and dewormer?”

The vet nodded. “I’ve brought her up to date on everything. If you need any information on queens with kittens, please, give us a call. She should be on kitten chow, and if I were you, I’d give her some kitten milk replacer from the store.” Lana nodded. She was already digging a financial hole for herself with this cat, but it didn’t faze her. She had money to spend—Wendy’s life insurance and the commissions on her book were still rolling in. “Thank you, Miss Winters. Keep us in the loop.” 

Lana set to work on building a queening box. She didn’t let Daisy outside anymore, but the cat did like to sleep in the sun on her screened-in porch, watching the birds as she grew rounder by the day. The days were a little less lonely if Lana spent them with Daisy. Daisy slept on her pillow at night, tail curled around her head. Daisy warmed her lap while she read. Daisy sat on her feet and purred while she wrote—and if she wrote too much, too deep, if she made herself start to shake or cry, Daisy would fumble her pregnant self up onto the desk and bump her cold, wet nose against Lana’s face until she calmed down and held her close and let the thrumming purr take her away. 

Erasing any notion of ever getting rid of her newly found beloved best friend, Lana anxiously awaited the day the kittens would arrive. But she had no idea someone else, someone completely unexpected, would arrive much sooner. 

She stirred a pot of stew on the stove. She had never been much of a cook, and the stew didn’t smell nearly as flavorful as it had when Wendy had cooked it for her. She leaned over it, watching it brew. _I miss her._ Daisy was on the porch, sleeping in the sunbeam, where she seemed to spend more and more of her time as she got rounder and rounder by the day. _Wendy would’ve loved to take care of a bunch of kittens with me._ Her eyes burned. Her eyes never seemed to stop burning, even when she thought she had finally moved past it. It was a heavy, painful stone gnawing against her skin, this grief, never growing any lighter. She had no one else to share this burden with her—no one but Daisy. _Maybe I’ll keep one of the kittens, so she has a cat friend, too._ She would decide once they were born. Daisy made her want to die less. Maybe another cat would amplify that effect. 

Daisy meowed outside, her chirping, chittering sound she made when she saw a bird she wanted to catch. Lana grinned, and all of her depressed thoughts vanished from her mind. “What you see out there, girl?” she called, not looking in on her yet. The stew was almost done; she just had to leave it on to simmer for a few more minutes before she would try to eat it. It would probably be tasteless, but at least she could say she had tried to provide for herself. Daisy mewled and chirped again. “Don’t worry, dinner is almost ready.” She gave a loud, pigeon-like cry, her affectionate noise. “I know, hon, I love you, too.” 

Daisy kept on chirping, purring, and mewling. _Maybe she wants inside._ Lana covered the pot and headed to the screen door to let Daisy inside. In the enclosed porch, a small, mostly-bald woman had her arm stretched out onto the table, scratching Daisy behind the ears where she lay in her happy place, basking in the sunlight. Lana’s mouth dropped open. She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a scream. “Who are you?” The woman gave a deep, open-mouthed, inarticulate laugh. “ _Who are you?_ ” she screamed this time. 

Her increased volume gained the stranger’s attention, and this time, she looked back at Lana with a ridiculous grin on her face. Now, Lana could see all of her odd facial features, just slightly off. The woman laughed again. She lifted one hand and pointed at Daisy. “Cat,” she said. Daisy rubbed her whole face against the woman’s hand, and then she rolled her tiny, rotund body onto her paws and booped her nose against the woman’s face, eliciting even more deep giggles. “Cat,” she said again. 

_She’s impaired,_ Lana realized. Clearing her throat, Lana opened the door and joined them on the enclosed porch. _That’s what I get for not keeping the door locked._ “Can you tell me your name?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking and betraying her fear. _She’s probably harmless. I should just call the police and have them take care of her._ But the last thing she wanted was for the police to lock some poor, disabled woman into jail while they sought her guardians. 

Wild brown eyes regarded her with glee. “Pep-per,” she enunciated slowly, stumbling over the syllables. 

“Pepper?” Lana repeated. _Odd name._ But the woman—Pepper—pointed to herself and nodded eagerly. “I’m Lana,” Lana said. Pepper was awfully preoccupied with petting Daisy, but she still glanced at Lana occasionally, like she was trying to diversify whatever little attention span she had between Lana and the cat. “Um… Can you tell me where you came from?” 

A sad shadow crossed Pepper’s face. “Over there,” she said, and she pointed out the screen window across the meadow with its grass grown tall and the roof of the hospital peeking up over the horizon. 

“How did you get outside?” Lana asked. 

“Miss Mary. Goin’ for a walk.” Pepper kept on petting Daisy, who rolled onto her back and exposed her gravid middle for all of Pepper’s gentle touches. Pepper chuckled in response. “Mhm… Cat.” _I don’t think I’m going to get much more out of her._ Lana nibbled her lower lip as she watched Pepper engage with Daisy, tickling her belly and her soft, white belly. 

Lana stepped away from her, trying to think of what to do. “Um, okay… Okay, Pepper, do you want something to eat?” _Apparently I’m starting a trend of feeding all of the strays that turn up here._ “Or something to drink?” Pepper was ignoring her now, humming her own little song as she danced back and forth in front of Daisy, whose plumed tail flicked back and forth and tiny white paws reached to draw Pepper’s hands back against her body. 

The overgrown field rustled, and a woman stepped out of the tall grass and flowers into Lana’s backyard. “Pepper?” she called out desperately. “Pepper, where are you?” She wore blue scrubs dotted with little pawprints. “Pepper?” 

Sighing with relief, Lana opened the screen door to her porch and headed down the steps. “I think I found her!” she shouted out to the pretty stranger, a tall, blonde woman with deep blue eyes and a perpetually astonished look upon her face. “Or, rather, she found my cat.”

The woman perked up and came trotting over. “Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry.” She put a hand over her heart as she approached Lana. “We were walking around the garden with another patient—I just turned my back for a moment, and she was gone and the gate was wide open. I don’t even know how she unlocked it.” Lana stood back, holding open the screen door to let her inside. “Pepper!”

Round brown eyes widened with delight at the woman, and she laughed and ran to her, giving her a big, tight hug. “Miss Mary! Cat!” 

The woman affectionately patted the top of her head, her exasperation fading as quickly as it had come. She smiled, and Lana basked in the sunlight exuded from it. “How did you get out of the gate?” She tilted Pepper’s chin back to look at her. “Be honest. Tell me the truth.” 

With a shy little huff, Pepper unfolded from one of her pockets a name badge. On it, there was a picture of the nurse’s face, along with her name: “Mary Eunice McKee, RN-BC.” Pepper shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Pepper sorry.” 

Sighing quietly, Mary Eunice wiggled the name badge from Pepper’s hand and clipped it onto the pocket of her scrub top. “You shouldn’t leave without telling me where you’re going. You know that scares me. Now Miss Jude is going to be upset with both of us.” 

“Miss Jude?” Her mouth gaped open in fear. 

“Mhm. You’ll have to tell her what you did.” Mary Eunice crossed her arms sternly. “And you’ll have to apologize to everyone else whose garden time got cut short because I had to leave to go find you. Will you do that for me?”

Pepper hung her head in shame, nodding. “Yes, Miss Mary.” She brightened again as she went back to pet Daisy. “Cat!” 

Lana didn’t even feel the need to cut in as she watched, adoring Mary Eunice in her sweet, gentle manner. Mary Eunice glanced back to Lana. “Is it okay if we pet the cat?”

Gawping at her, it took Lana a moment to realize Mary Eunice had been speaking to her and not some fourth figment of the room behind her. “I—um—er—yeah, yeah, that’s fine. Daisy is super sweet. Just be gentle, she’s very pregnant.” 

Mary Eunice smiled and giggled. “I can see that.” She nudged Pepper pointedly to get her attention. “Do you know what that means, Pepper?” Pepper blinked up at her uncertainly. “That means that there will be kittens soon.” Pepper grinned and nodded furiously. Mary Eunice’s eyes flicked back to Lana. “I thought this property was abandoned.” Lana blinked. “How long have you been here?” 

“Oh… Just about two weeks, I think.” 

“Oh, you’re new in town!” Mary Eunice had a bright smile. She offered a hand for Lana to shake. “I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Mary Eunice, I’m a nurse at Briarcliff… and it looks like you already met Pepper.” 

Lana studied her in the lazy afternoon sunlight streaming in through the screens. She was so damn beautiful, so peaceful, so sweet. She wore a silver crucifix around her neck, right in the hollow of her throat. “I’m Lana.” Her mouth was dry as she said it, and she almost forgot her own name right there on the spot in favor of falling into Mary Eunice’s deep blue eyes. _I haven’t felt like this about someone since…_ She couldn’t finish the sentence, and she touched her wedding ring to remind herself of its weight there, her loyalty to someone who could no longer hold her hand but still held her heart.

The instant magnetic pull between them was, she supposed, one-sided, for Mary Eunice seemed nonplussed by everything. “What brings you to town, Lana?” she asked. 

It was the most difficult question to answer. Lana dodged it, most of the time, but today, her lying lips were not as talented as they once had been. “I, um, er…” _Sound intelligent. Don’t tell her all about your life._ “I’m a writer,” she said, “and I needed a change of scenery. This place was inexpensive. I liked the field of wildflowers.” It was true. 

Mary Eunice smiled and touched Lana’s hand. Her skin was warm, slightly calloused and dry. “Well—I hope you find everything you’re looking for. Maybe we’ll run into each other.” 

_I hope so._ Lana couldn’t bite her lip. “Um, I just finished cooking dinner—if you would like some.”

The offer surprised Mary Eunice. She placed a hand on the small of Pepper’s back. “Oh, we’d love to!” Pepper nodded enthusiastically. “But—um, Jude really _will_ be furious if we don’t get back soon, so we probably shouldn’t. Right, Pepper?” _Who is this Jude person? She’s cockblocking me from the sanitarium._ Lana chewed the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at her own ridiculousness. Cockblocking? She didn’t have any business having sex with anyone, especially not a cute psychiatric nurse. “Thank you very much, though—and thanks for keeping Pepper safe.” 

Lana lifted her hand to wave goodbye to them as she watched them go, down the steps to the porch, across the yard, and into the field of wildflowers. 

…

Daisy gave birth just two days later. Her queening box was uninhabited; she elected to give birth directly onto Lana’s chest while she was sleeping in bed in the middle of the night. She awoke to a gush of fluid across her nightgown and her sheets, and by the time she fumbled on the light, Daisy was licking the first tiny, wet kitten in her lap. By the time the sun rose, three more had joined the first, and the happy family suckled actively while Daisy munched on some of the special food Lana had purchased for her. The kittens grew quickly, but Daisy refused to let Lana go anywhere without them. Wherever Lana went, Daisy would follow, bringing her kittens one by one into Lana’s lap or next to her feet if she was standing. There were two boys and two girls, and she named them Huckleberry, Snapdragon, Petunia, and Tulip. 

It was almost three weeks after the first time she had met Pepper and her beautiful, endearing nurse before Lana came outside onto the porch one morning to find Pepper sitting in her rocking chair. Lana tripped over herself, spilling a bit of her coffee onto the cement floor. Pepper cradled a bundle of blankets close to her chest and wept. “Pepper?” Lana set down her coffee and her newspaper. Inside the house, Daisy cried, infuriated that Lana had closed the door on her before she had had the chance to bring her family out to enjoy her lap. “What do you have there, Pepper?” Lana asked, squatting down to be on eye level with her, where she rocked furiously back and forth and sobbed into the soft blankets. Lana gingerly parted the blankets, looking through them, but inside was nothing more than a slightly tattered Raggedy Ann doll. “What’s the matter?” she asked, but Pepper was giving her no answers, only shaking her head and crying harder. “Where’s Mary Eunice—Miss Mary?” _Mary Eunice probably isn’t even working today. There has to be a ton of staff at that place._

A few more attempts at cajoling did nothing for Pepper. Lana gingerly touched her elbow. “Let’s go inside and see some kittens. Okay? Cat?” she implored, and this finally snapped Pepper out of her tears and gained her interest. “Listen.” Daisy was still screaming. “Hear that? She wants you to come see her family.” Pepper hugged her, and Lana pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go. Come with me.” _What if Mary Eunice comes out and doesn’t see her?_ She shrugged it off. Pepper was upset, and she had to cheer her up. She couldn’t just leave a crying, disabled woman on her porch to suffer in misery. 

Daisy pigeon-chirped enthusiastically as Lana brought Pepper inside. “Here, let’s sit on the couch. Daisy will bring us her babies.” Through the kitchen and into the living room, Lana pushed her onto the couch and spread a blanket across her lap, and Daisy trotted away, returning with one of her growing kittens dangling from her mouth. The other three followed at a sluggish pace, their legs not quite ready for walking yet, and they bobbled and wobbled their way after their mother. Daisy doubled back for a second one, and Lana picked up the other two and put them in Pepper’s lap. Hopping up onto the sofa, Daisy sat between Lana’s thighs, purring and beaming with pride as Pepper stroked each small kitten with two fingers. “That’s very good. You’re very gentle,” Lana complimented, nervousness tickling inside of her. What would she do if nobody showed up for Pepper? What had happened to upset Pepper so much? She still had her blankets and her Raggedy Ann doll beside her. _What if someone got hurt?_ Licking her lips, Lana asked, “Pepper, can you tell me what happened?” 

Her lower lip quivering, Pepper shook her head. She clutched her blankets again. “He dead,” she whispered. “The baby dead.” 

_I hope nobody in that state hospital has a baby…_ Lana pursed her lips. It didn’t make any sense. “Who is taking care of you today? Is it Mary Eunice?” Pepper hummed to herself as she brushed the downy fur of the baby kittens. “Is it Miss Mary?” 

“Miss Mary—her come this morning.”

“Will she be looking for you?” 

Pepper shrugged. “Maybe.” 

_Maybe._ That was about as uncertain as one could be. But Lana didn’t dare try to call the police, not for Pepper’s sweet soul. She could wait until someone showed up, and if nobody did that after a few hours, she could drive Pepper back to the hospital and ask for Mary Eunice to find out what the hell had happened. _Would she even tell me? With HIPAA?_ Lana questioned it for a moment, but then she decided that Mary Eunice owed her the knowledge of whatever had upset Pepper enough to send her running all this way. 

Lana got her coffee, which was cold by now, and her newspaper, and flicked on the television to Sesame Street to entertain Pepper while she read. Having company was nice. Getting to see Mary Eunice again would be even nicer. _If I’m that desperate, I should just give her my phone number and ask her if she wants to hang out._ But Wendy’s portrait hung from the wall in this room, staring down upon her, and she felt unfaithful just having thought about making another friend, a friend that they didn’t share together. And furthermore, she didn’t want to alienate Mary Eunice. As far as she knew, the nurse was married and had children and had no need or want for a lonely widow. _I could ask Pepper._ No, she couldn’t do that to Pepper. 

Almost forty-five minutes passed before somebody finally knocked on her front door, and Lana hopped off of the couch to answer it. Daisy trotted after her. Sure enough, Mary Eunice waited at the door, looking disheveled and exhausted. “Is she here?” she gasped, sweat running down her face in rivulets and hair strung out all wayward and windblown. “I came in late—got report—nobody has seen her for hours!” Tears pooled in her round, bloodshot eyes. 

Lana placed a steadying hand on her waist. “Yes, she’s here.” 

Mary Eunice shivered all over, and as Lana gave the confirmation, she buried her head in her hands and began to cry. “Oh my god, I was so worried—” She gulped, hugging herself and whimpering. Lana stood there, arms partially outstretched, and Mary Eunice stumbled into her embrace. “I’m so sorry—” She hiccuped through her tears. “They _know_ this is a bad day for her, they _should’ve been checking on her_ , I shouldn’t have left her last night, I knew she wasn’t okay, but my dog has been sick—oh my god—”

Holding her and stroking her hair back out of her sticky tears, Lana shushed her. “Hey, hey… try to compose yourself, you don’t want her to see you all messed up.” Mary Eunice cried into the crook of her neck. _At least I won’t look like a basket case to her now._ “She’s not hurt, okay? She’s fine… She came straight here, I found her on my porch this morning. I’ve just got her playing with the kittens.” 

Mary Eunice sniffled long and hard. She wiped her face with her hands. “R-Right.” Her voice quivered. “I’m so s-sorry, I didn’t mean to f-fall apart on you, I just—” She had to stop herself, voice thick with another sob, and she took a measured breath to get through it. “When I came in to get report, and the _other nurse_ said she hadn’t seen her in _hours_ , and then one of the other patients said they saw her steal the janitor’s badge and leave the building—oh my god, I panicked. _Hours!_ How could they not realize for _hours?_ ” She wiped her eyes. “She didn’t want me to leave last night. She was so upset. I told them, I told them today was not a good day for her—they’re so overworked, we’re so understaffed, they didn’t even have time to care—” 

Lana kept her hands on Mary Eunice’s waist. “Why isn’t this a good day for her? She was crying this morning… Only Daisy could cheer her up.”

Shaking her head, Mary Eunice wiped at her eyes. “Today is the anniversary of the day Pepper was taken away from her family… Her little sister had been her caretaker for years, but she—she murdered her own baby. Tried to blame it on Pepper, got her arrested, but the fingerprint evidence didn’t match up. Pepper _never_ handles it well… I should’ve just stayed, last night, when she asked me to, but I didn’t have anyone to watch Gus, and he’s not been feeling well, his arthritis is flaring up and the joint supplements haven’t started kicking in for him yet—Oh, gosh, I’m rambling, I’m so sorry.” 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay…” Lana caressed her cheek, and round blue eyes found hers, shocked into silence. _What the hell am I doing?_ She barely knew this woman and had absolutely no business touching her like this. But she couldn’t manage to take her hand away. “This is not your fault,” she said. “It’s going to be okay.” Those were two things she wished she would’ve had someone to say to her in her darkest hours. But she had been alone, then. She was alone, now, too, but staring into Mary Eunice’s cerulean eyes, she felt a little less so. “You can’t be everywhere at once. It isn’t your job to do other people’s work for them. They should’ve been on top of it.” 

“We just have so many patients.” Mary Eunice was breathless. She blinked a few times. Lana could feel the muscles of her face twitching into her palm. Mary Eunice leaned into her touch. “There’s not enough of us to do all the checks we need to do… I’m so glad she’s okay. I came in as soon as they called me and said she was missing—I didn’t even brush my hair.” _So that’s why she looks so disheveled._

Sliding her hand away, Lana put her hand on the small of Mary Eunice’s back. “Come in here, let’s wash your face before she sees… We can brush your hair before you leave.” 

Mary Eunice’s heavy eyes hung closed. “Thank you, Lana.” Lana warmed a paper towel under the kitchen sink. Mary Eunice reached to take it, but Lana pressed it to her cheeks. She fell very still, lips trembling. “Were you ever a nurse?” Mary Eunice asked. Lana shook her head. “You’re very caring.”

Lana shrugged. “My wife is a school teacher,” she said. The words stung. _Is._ She couldn’t yet think of Wendy in the past tense. “I learned a lot of things from her.” Mary Eunice’s surprise was palpable on her face, surprise and something else—hurt, maybe? Lana wiped the sticky tears from her cheeks and cleared her throat, hoping to avoid any other prying questions. “C’mon, you can see the kittens too.” Maybe the baby kittens were a sideshow attraction, but if they got her some company and some attention, she couldn’t say she minded much. 

Mary Eunice nodded. “Thank you…” She followed Lana into the living room, the backs of their hands brushing. “Pepper?” she asked as she entered the room, and Pepper glanced up at her. “Hey, sweetie, I was worried about you.” She sat beside Pepper on the couch. “Why did you run away? I told you I would come back to see you today.” Pepper hugged her and leaned up against her. “Well, I’m here now. Will you show me your new friends?” 

Pepper pointed out each of the kittens. She didn’t know their names, but for each one, she said, “Kitty!” Lana sat down beside Mary Eunice, and Daisy sprung into her lap. “Cat!” 

Mary Eunice smiled. Exhaustion crinkled around the corners of her eyes. “Would you like some coffee?” Lana asked as she leaned back, looking like she could collapse on the spot since the adrenaline had left her system. 

Shaking her head, Mary Eunice said, “No, thank you.” She cleared her throat. “You have a lovely home, Lana,” she complimented. Before Lana had the chance to thank her, she spotted the portrait of Wendy on the wall. “Is that your wife?” she asked. Lana nodded. “I guess she’s probably at work right now. What school does she work for?” 

Lana cleared her throat. _Of course._ She couldn’t skate on by without answering any uncomfortable questions. “Wendy, um…” Wendy’s name burned her tongue now. She missed saying it. “She actually passed away a little less than a year ago,” she explained quietly. She licked her lips. “She taught in Boston, where we lived before… you know.” 

“Oh.” Mary Eunice’s eyes were wide with the emboldened acknowledgment that she had overstepped her boundaries. “I’m so sorry, I, um—wow. I’m so sorry. She was so young.”

In spite of the morbid nature of the situation, Mary Eunice’s blush was somewhat cute to Lana, who averted her eyes as she murmured, “She was murdered.” Mary Eunice’s mouth opened and closed and opened and closed, a fish gasping around on land with no water, and the eloquence Lana had commended when Mary Eunice talked to Pepper vanished without a trace. Instead, the dry, calloused hand found hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was an invitation to say more, and though Lana didn’t want to, she felt she owed it to Mary Eunice for whatever strange reason—maybe because she liked her. “I stayed until the hearing was over… Then I moved. I couldn’t stay there anymore, knowing—knowing that was where she had died.” 

A heavy weight landed on her shoulder, and Mary Eunice’s blue eyes gazed up to her from there. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered again. She clasped Lana’s hand in her own. “I know I already proved myself to be a complete mess today… but I’m here for you.” It was surprising to Lana—no one else had ever said those words to her since Wendy had died. 

Lana sighed and leaned her head against Mary Eunice’s. It felt natural, and neither of them moved away in discomfort. “Thank you.” 

They sat there in silence, watching the television bleed one episode of Sesame Street into another, while Pepper dozed off, clutching her blankets and her dolls with the kittens wandering about on her lap. Daisy gathered them up on top of Mary Eunice and began to feed them. Mary Eunice smiled. “We probably should go back,” she said. Lana nodded slowly. She didn’t want Mary Eunice or Pepper to leave. “Here, um…” Mary Eunice fidgeted in the pockets of her scrubs and pulled out a notebook. “Here’s my phone number. So you can call me, if Pepper shows up here again—or if you just want to talk.” She scrawled it down on a piece of paper and tore it off. 

Once they left, Lana saved it in her phone, and before bed that night, she stared at the screen that bore Mary Eunice’s name. She hit the blue box for messaging. But she couldn’t think of what to type. So she left it blank, rolled over in bed beside Daisy and her kittens, and went to sleep. 

…

Only another week passed before Pepper showed up again. She didn’t hang out on the porch. Lana stood there over the stove, grilling herself a cheese sandwich, when the door swung open and Pepper walked right in. Lana jumped, whipping around with a knife in her hand, but when she spotted Pepper, she relaxed a little bit. “Hey, there, Pepper.” Pepper waved. Daisy trotted up to her, and Pepper knelt down to pet her. “Is Miss Mary with you today?” Pepper shook her head, humming her own little tune. 

Taking the sandwich off the stove, Lana reached for the phone and called Mary Eunice, who picked up on the second ring. “Hello?” The wind blew in the background. _She’s outside._

“Hi, Mary Eunice? It’s Lana.”

“Oh, hi, Lana! Is everything alright?”

“Yeah—everything’s fine. Pepper is here again.”

“Oh, shoot. Okay. I’m at the park, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” _It’s her day off?_ Before Lana could object to her coming in on her day off, Mary Eunice ended the phone call, and Lana tucked her phone back into her pocket and started to eat her sandwich, watching the kittens toddle over to Pepper and enjoy her pets. 

Shortly after, Mary Eunice pulled up in front of Lana’s house and got out with a massive, block-headed black dog on a leash. In spite of the dog’s size, his muzzle was white with age, and he had a strange, arthritic gait. Mary Eunice wore black sweatpants and an oversized, faded green T-shirt. “Hi—sorry it took so long, we were in the middle of the park.” The dog limped up the stairs to her porch with Mary Eunice. Lana opened the door for them. _Is that dog friendly with cats?_ she wanted to ask, but she didn’t. “How long has she been here?”

“Not long. She just walked right in.” 

Lana offered her hand to the dog to smell, and he licked it affectionately. Mary Eunice smiled. “This is Gus,” she said. “His arthritis is feeling better now, so we thought we’d go for a walk today.” She toyed with her crucifix necklace. Lana let them inside, and Gus went to greet Pepper, pressing his cold, black nose against the side of her face. Pepper laughed, turning back to see Mary Eunice. She hugged Gus around his giant head. His tail wagged enthusiastically. “Okay, Pepper, you have to go back now. Come with me and Gus, okay? We’ll take you back to your room.” Pepper, enthralled by having a dog to play with, rose eagerly. “Thanks, Lana.” Mary Eunice opened her arms. Lana blinked at her for a moment before she realized, _Oh, she wants a hug,_ and stepped into her embrace. 

Her arms felt like coming home to a place she had never known before but felt instinctively was hers in her heart. Lana held on and drank in a deep breath. There was that feeling of her chest expanding against arms tight around her body… Oh, that feeling couldn’t be traded for the world. _I’ve been holding on for far too long_. She couldn’t bring herself to let go. Human affection was something she sorely lacked these days. To Mary Eunice’s credit, she didn’t break away. She allowed Lana to cling to her as long as she desired until she finally stepped back, both feeling relieved and craving more. She couldn’t think of what to say as her adoring eyes drifted back up to Mary Eunice, so she gave a smile and a nod, reassuring herself that she would probably see the two of them again soon enough. 

Later that afternoon, she piddled in the kitchen with some soft pate kitten food, trying to introduce it to the kittens as they weaned. Daisy was chirping and meowing as she ran back and forth, batting around one of her toys. “I see, girl, I see. I’m so proud of you.” Daisy pawed at her leg where Lana stood over the counter. “Do you want me to throw it?” Lana reached down to take the toy away from Daisy, but instead of a toy, she found a silver chain with a crucifix charm on the center. “Well, this isn’t yours. I’ll have to take it to Mary Eunice tomorrow.” She put it in the pocket of her jacket and placed the bowls on the floor for the kittens to pick over. 

…

Lana had lived across the lawn from Briarcliff for more than a month now, but she still had never seen the building up close and personal until she drove up to it with the necklace in her pocket. _This is crazy. I don’t even know if she works today._ She had considered texting or calling Mary Eunice to see—but she wanted this to be a surprise. She wanted it to be romantic, for whatever silly reason; she wanted to impress Mary Eunice and prove that she still had it in her to be a hopeless romantic sap. So she drove to the front of the towering hospital and parked in the visitor lot, and she let herself out of the car, locking it several times behind her. Why? She didn’t know. She doubted any of the patients would want to steal her car or its scarce contents, if they even made it out of the building. _Getting out of the building can’t be that hard, with how many times Pepper has done it._

Heading up the sidewalk, Lana refused to let the towering hospital intimidate her. She had been so many places after Wendy’s death—the jail, the hospital, the courthouse, deeper and darker than she ever wanted to go. She licked her lips as she pushed through the glass doors and headed to the front desk. A beleaguered secretary lazily lifted her eyes up to Lana, looking like she was bracing herself for the next impact. “How can I help you?” she asked slowly. 

“Hi,” Lana greeted, smiling, hoping to put her to ease. “I’m, um, I’m looking for Mary Eunice McKee. She’s a nurse here.” 

“Oh. She’s on the fourth floor… You’ll have to pass the security clearance.” A security guard stepped up. “Follow him. He’ll walk you through it.” _It’s a psychiatric hospital. Of course there are security measures._ Lana trotted after the man with a smile on her face, trying not to let her anxiety get the best of her. Somewhere in this building, there was Mary Eunice, and she couldn’t imagine Mary Eunice working anywhere truly scary. The nurse was such a gentle, loving person that any place she inhabited automatically became filled with grace. 

The elevator was rickety and thumped audibly as it climbed. She stepped out after the security guard. “Leave your purse, your phone, and empty your pockets.” He pointed to a locker. 

Lana obeyed. “Um, this necklace—It’s Mary Eunice’s. That’s why I’m bringing it to her. She lost it at my house yesterday.” 

A smile split the man’s face. “Really? She was looking all over for it. It’s very important to her. Her mother gave it to her just before she died. She’ll be thrilled to have it back. You can take it to her.” _I didn’t know any of that._ Lana’s shoulders relaxed with a sigh. The security guard opened the sliding metal door that gave way to the fourth floor. “Right this way.” 

Immediately, she could hear Mary Eunice’s voice. “I understand his history, but his behavior has been nothing less than stellar, and his psychiatrist agrees it’s time to give him a chance with lower security—even just at mealtimes, to work out how he’s going to handle it.”

Lana rounded a corner, and she first spotted a stern-faced older woman whose name badge dubbed her, “Jude Martin, RN-BC, Charge Nurse.” “You’re a fool. Oliver Thredson’s IQ is higher than yours and Dr. Arden’s combined. That man is _fooling_ you, and if you keep advocating for him, someone is going to get hurt. He’s a cold-blooded serial rapist and murderer. He does not deserve any of your sympathy. He is not your beloved microcephalic pet.” _I don’t like her at all,_ Lana decided immediately. She didn’t like the way Jude spat her words. She didn’t like the way she condescended to Mary Eunice, and she didn’t like the way she talked about Pepper. 

Mary Eunice hesitated. “I want to help people. That’s why he’s here. If he were a cold-blooded murderer, he’d be in prison, but he’s here for us to help him.” 

“Just because he fooled a jury does not mean he should fool us.” Mary Eunice set her jaw. “Very well. You think he’s ill, don’t you?” Mary Eunice nodded. “Is it not the case that many of the people here are so ill that they cannot be helped? You don’t go to Pepper and expect to teach her to drive a car. You don’t go to Clara with the expectation that she won’t have hallucinations. Why do you think he is any different?”

“Oliver has shown considerable improvement,” Mary Eunice argued. “He’s demonstrating an increase in empathy on all of his exams. His therapist says he’s finally starting to come to terms with some of his trauma from the foster care system, and the cocktail of medications he’s on have led him to become friendlier, less anxious, and less depressed.” 

“Or—consider this: the man is a certifiable genius who invented all of this as a ruse in the hope of getting released so he can rape and kill again.” Lana’s whole face went cold, her hands shaking. What was Mary Eunice arguing for? For a killer to have his freedom? Like the one who had killed Wendy? “I acknowledge that Doctors Arden and Jones are going to press for his move into lower security because of the improvement they believe he has experienced. But trust me, Mary Eunice. I’ve been working with murderers and rapists in this building longer than anyone else. Some of them can improve. This one cannot. If you decide to advocate for Oliver Thredson’s release from high security as his nurse, I can promise you you will regret it.”

 _Maybe she isn’t as unlikeable as I thought…_ Jude, however cruel her words, had a point. Lana wanted every violent man behind as many bars as humanly possible. Mary Eunice was being idealistic at best and downright naive at worst. What was she thinking, trying to introduce a violent criminal in the general population with other vulnerable patients who had done nothing wrong? Mary Eunice nodded slowly. “I believe people can change,” she mumbled. 

Jude arched an eyebrow. “You asked for my opinion as your superior. I gave it. He is your patient. It is your duty to advocate for him as you see fit.” She nodded to where Lana stood just beyond them, behind Mary Eunice. “I believe you have a visitor. I didn’t know you had friends.” She turned on her heel and stormed away. 

Spinning around with a perplexed look on her face, Mary Eunice spotted Lana, and her whole countenance lit up with glee. “Lana! What are you doing here?” She practically skipped herself over to Lana, but Lana found it difficult to return her joy with what she had just heard. She was angry, hurt, frightened—because the joyous grace with which Mary Eunice regarded her whole life _did_ follow her to work, and it put her in danger. “Are you alright?”

 _Shake it off. You shouldn’t have overheard any of that._ Lana shook herself, trying to rid herself of the notion that Mary Eunice was doing anything dangerous. Nurses required a gratuitous amount of certification; Mary Eunice knew what she was doing. Besides, nothing that happened here would affect Lana in any way. “Um, yeah, I’m sorry.” She forced a smile, but Mary Eunice’s look of concern didn’t fade. She pulled the necklace out of her pocket and held it out to her. “You lost this at my house yesterday when you were there with Pepper. I thought I ought to return it.”

Blue eyes widened and sparkled. “Oh my goodness—thank you so much, Lana, thank you.” A sheen crossed them, and she blinked several times fast to try to keep from weeping. She pulled Lana into a hug. “I was looking everywhere for it. I didn’t even think you might have it. It means so much to me, I never take it off,” she confessed. She squeezed Lana so tightly, most of the sad squeezed right out of her, like a sponge being wrung out, and Lana found it easier to relax under her touch. “It means so much to me,” Mary Eunice repeated. She drew back. “It—It’s the last thing my mother gave me before she died,” she said quietly.

Lana pretended the security guard hadn’t just told her the same thing. “Let me put it back on you, where it belongs.” Mary Eunice turned around and lifted up her hair, and Lana put it around her neck and clasped it firmly. “There.” She smiled. It was still a little forced. 

“Thank you so much, Lana. Really—thank you.” Mary Eunice hugged her once more, but then a call light went off behind her. Mary Eunice pulled away. “Thank you,” she said again. “That’s my patient. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

 _Soon?_ Lana wanted to ask. Thus far, they had established a trend of only seeing one another when Pepper decided to make a break from the facility and head to Lana’s house. But she didn’t question. “Okay,” she agreed. “Have a good day.”

It weighed heavily on her, the conversation she had overheard, the pit of her stomach tangled up in knots. Once she no longer had Mary Eunice’s warm arms around her to dissuade her fears, they all returned tenfold. Was Mary Eunice really the type of person who bargained for murderers to have their freedom and believed all people could change and grow? Didn’t she believe in justice? _Relax… Not everyone will share your values. Not everyone has been through what you’ve been through._ But it haunted her, the thought that any violent criminal could slip right out of high security because Mary Eunice had advocated for his good behavior. 

At home, she cracked open a bottle of Fireball and took the whole bottle into her living room, placing it on the coffee table. _God, I miss Wendy._ She took a few deep sips from the bottle. Each taste made her gag, but she forced herself to swallow. Daisy rested in her lap. As her fingers shivered and the tears rolled down her face, Daisy pressed a cold nose against her cheeks. Lana’s breath hitched into a weak, pathetic sob. She didn’t want to cry anymore, but she couldn’t stop, and her tears fell into Daisy’s soft fur. One by one, she brought her kittens to Lana, and Lana stretched out on her back, letting the stack of cats nest on her chest, until she quickly fell asleep. 

“Lana?” Her name stirred Lana from her sleep. “Lana, are you okay?” Lana turned her head and grunted. She had a headache and a very dry mouth. “Did you pass out?” She elbowed herself up from the couch, blinking blearily, struggling to make everything come into focus. “Can you hear me?” 

Rubbing her eyes with her fists, Lana bobbed her head. “Mhm…” She squinted across the room to Mary Eunice. “Where—Why—How—” She stopped, took a deep breath, and stayed silent as she evaluated the whole scene through her blurred eyes. The lamps had been turned on. Mary Eunice was no longer in her scrubs, and her grizened dog rested on the floor. There was a pizza on the coffee table right beside the bottle of Fireball. Mary Eunice clutched a bouquet of flowers. _Be patient, take this slowly._ “How did you get into my house?” She thought that was the most important question to ask. 

Mary Eunice tilted her head, eyes narrowed and lips pursed in concern. “You left the door unlocked. I thought you seemed upset earlier, so I decided I’d see if you were okay. Then you didn’t answer your phone and I got worried.” She put the bouquet on the coffee table. “Are you alright? How much did you drink?” 

Lana shook her head. “Just that much—” She nodded to the bottle on the table, where only a little of the liquor was missing—enough that she was feeling it, but not nearly enough to make her pass out. “I just fell asleep, that’s all. I’m sorry.” She massaged her temples. 

“Enough to have a hangover?” Mary Eunice asked. 

“No, it’s a stress migraine. Totally different beast.” _I wish it was a hangover. That would be easier to cure._ Lana pushed herself up and patted the couch beside her for Mary Eunice to sit, and she did. “You just worked a twelve hour shift, and you decided to come see me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Mary Eunice frowned. “Of course. We’re friends, aren’t we?” _Yeah… friends._ Lana licked her lips. Mary Eunice touched her hand, the one that still bore her wedding ring. “I thought maybe you were upset with me… for what you heard me saying to Jude earlier.” _Well, she’s not quite as naive as I thought._ Lana froze there on the spot, trying to come up with something to say, but with her head aching and her thoughts slightly fuzzled, nothing wanted to come to the surface intelligently. “I never should have said any of that in front of you—or _anyone_. It was not a conversation we should’ve been holding in public at all, let alone where you could overhear it. And I’m very sorry.” She picked up the bouquet and held it out to Lana. 

Lana accepted it. Her mouth was dry. “I—I’m not _upset,_ ” she muttered. “It’s your job to advocate for your patient, whoever the hell he is. It’s none of my business. It just troubles me that—that you’re dealing with those types of people, and maybe you’re a little…” She paused, trying to think of the right word, one that was sensitive enough that it wouldn’t hurt Mary Eunice’s feelings. 

Tenderly, Mary Eunice interjected, “You can tell me I’m naive, Lana. Believe me, I’ve heard it from Jude a million times. I _know_ I’m taking a risk, just doing the job that I’m doing, and then that I care for a patient like that and I see him as a human and not as a monster. I think I _am_ naive.” 

Lana shuddered. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” Her voice thickened. She wanted more Fireball, but the last thing she wanted was for Mary Eunice to see her have a complete binge. She was healing… She knew Mary Eunice understood that. But she didn’t want to be another psychiatric patient for her. She wanted to be a friend. “I think he’s a monster.” Her voice was husky. “And I think he’ll hurt you, or someone else, if you don’t see that soon enough.” 

Mary Eunice took her hand. “I reported to the doctors that I don’t think he’s ready to be released from high security,” she said quietly. Melted brown eyes met hers. “Regardless of what I think, I trust Jude first. She’s my superior, and I wouldn’t have asked for her opinion if I wasn’t prepared to accept her advice. At the end of the day, it isn’t my decision what happens with him, but if he is moved to reduced security, it won’t be because I requested it.” 

A heavy weight lifted off of Lana’s shoulders. Instantly, she felt better, lighter. She stared down at her hands. They still carried a slight tremble. “I’m sorry,” she apologized quietly. “This, um… I’ve not been very healthy lately.” Daisy wrapped around their legs as they talked, her kittens toddling around after her. “Next week will be a year since—since Wendy died. My coping skills got flushed like a dead goldfish.” 

Scooting nearer to her, Mary Eunice’s concerned face held something else, some form of nervousness. “That’s why I’m here… I’m your friend, right?” She gave an anxious chuckle. _What’s gotten into her?_ “Um, I brought pizza, but if that’s not what you want, we can order anything you want.”

Lana shrugged. “Pizza is fine. I haven’t eaten all day.” She leaned forward to open the box. Mary Eunice leaned forward, catching her hand to keep her from lifting the lid. “What gives? Do you not want to share?”

“I did something dumb to the pizza.” 

Lana’s brow quirked. “What? Did you put anchovies on it?” she asked with an incredulous laugh. She couldn’t imagine anything else that someone could have done to a _pizza_ to ruin it or mess it up. 

“No, I just—I’ve realized it was inappropriate. Please, don’t judge me—I swear I didn’t mean anything by it.” Mary Eunice sucked on her lower lip, averting her gaze from Lana’s. Lana wanted to frown, but she couldn’t quite overcome the idea of something silly enough to make her judge Mary Eunice from a damn pizza. 

She lifted the lid of the pizza box. The heart-shaped pizza rested in the center of the box. The inside of the top of the box said, “I love you,” in black marker. Mary Eunice did not move, did not look at Lana, did not say anything at all, while Lana gaped at the spectacle before her. _How did this happen?_ She loved Mary Eunice. She _adored_ Mary Eunice. She went to the hospital today just to complete a romantic gesture for her. She had spent every day since the first day they met wondering when she would get to see Mary Eunice again. But… Her eyes darted up to Wendy’s portrait on the wall. Wendy was smiling. Could she do that to her partner? Her _wife?_ Her toes curled. She swallowed hard. _Wendy would want me to be happy._ Was she ready to be happy, though? She didn’t know. A quiet, long breath drawled from her nose. “Mary Eunice, I…”

“You—You don’t have to say anything, I know I was out of line—”

“No, um. I—I feel the same way.” Skeptical blue eyes lifted up to the side of her face. Lana couldn’t look away from the pizza, like she expected the whole spectacle to disappear if she blinked. She gulped again. “I do. I did from the first time I saw you.” She reached out to clasp Mary Eunice’s hand, and Mary Eunice provided, lacing their fingers together. “I just… I don’t know if I’m ready, yet, and I won’t—I _can’t_ ask you to wait for me. Because I might never _be_ ready.” 

Mary Eunice squeezed her hand. “I understand.” She cleared her throat. “I understand. I do.” Her thumb rolled over Lana’s knuckles. “I’ll wait,” she promised. Lana’s heart flushed with warmth. “And until then, I’m your friend… Okay? I don’t want anything else from you. I just want to support you.” 

Tears stung the backs of Lana’s eyes. She refused to shed them. “I—I don’t expect anything from you. If you’re ready now, you should move on.”

“I’m ready for _you_ now,” Mary Eunice insisted. “And I’ll be ready until you are. I’m not on a schedule, and I’m not in a hurry.” Giving Lana’s hand a final squeeze, she released it and reached for a slice of pizza. “Come on. You look like you’re about to collapse. You need to eat something.” Gus rose from the rug and approached at the sight of Mary Eunice holding pizza, but she ignored him. She put the pizza in Lana’s hand, and as Lana took a bite, her headache melted away. _Maybe it was just hunger…_ When she spotted her reflection in Mary Eunice’s blue eyes, she smiled. _Maybe it was something else._

…

A week passed. The sun rose ever so slowly over the day. Lana lay in bed, on her back, trying not to feel any pain and unable to escape it. Everything she had experienced over the last year pushed her deeper and deeper into the mattress. Daisy kneaded on her chest with her paws, trying to convince her to rise from the bed, but Lana pushed her away and rolled over. “Leave me alone,” she whispered. Daisy was not stymied. She rested on Lana’s pillow and groomed her hair. 

Eventually, Lana rolled out of bed. Her head was throbbing. She checked her cell phone; she had missed a handful of texts from Mary Eunice. It was nearly seven, time for Mary Eunice to leave work. _I should just tell her I don’t feel like talking today._ She didn’t even have the energy to do that. She went to the bathroom for some of her old Ativan that the doctors had given her after Wendy had died. The kittens trotted and toddled around after her. “Ugh.” Taking the pill bottle with her, she headed to the kitchen and spooned up fresh kitten food into their bowls. They gathered around with their grubby little faces. Lana didn’t have the strength to stand there and watch. She grabbed her bottle of Fireball and stumbled to the couch. _I don’t feel like doing anything ever again._ Her hands shivered. _I just want to stop feeling everything, ever._ She poured a generous number of the pills into her hand, not counting them. Dumping them into her hand, she took a deep drink from her bottle of Fireball. It barely burned on its way down. She took a few more. Her stomach boiled. _I just want to escape._ Daisy landed on her chest, meowing—screaming, screaming, louder than she had ever screamed before with her desperate meows. Lana lifted a clumsy hand up to her head, booping her once, before her hand fell still and unconsciousness consumed her. 

Mary Eunice stepped into her car from work and checked her phone anxiously one more time. Lana hadn’t answered any of her texts or calls all day. _I’ve got to go check on her._ She knew it was a bad day for Lana, the anniversary of Wendy’s death, and she had wholly planned on giving her space as requested, but she couldn’t do that if she feared Lana was sick or hurt. She backed out of the parking lot and turned onto the main road, heading around the block to Lana’s house, and she pulled into her drive and hopped out of her car. From outside the house, she could hear Daisy yowling. _Something’s wrong._ She ran up the steps into the screened-in porch and then into the house. “Lana?” she called. No answer. Daisy yowled again. Mary Eunice followed the sound into the living room, where Lana lay on her back, bottle of Fireball in her hand and threatening to tip over. “Lana!” She ran to her side and tore the bottle away from her, putting it on the end table. 

Daisy jumped onto Lana’s chest, kneading frantically. “Lana, wake up. Wake up.” Mary Eunice patted her cheek over and over. “Lana.” Brown eyes stirred, and a low rumble started in her throat, resembling a word. Her eyes were crossed. Mary Eunice glanced back at the pill bottle on the coffee table. _Ativan._ “Lana, how much did you take?” Lana’s words were a thick slur. “I’m calling for help.” Lana’s lazy arm grabbed onto her scrub top, moaning and whimpering a protest. “No, Lana, you need help, you poisoned yourself—” Lana’s face began to turn green. Mary Eunice dove across the floor and grabbed the waste bin, holding it up against the side of the couch as Lana vomited into it. Mary Eunice desperately pulled her hair back away from her face. “Lana—Oh, dear god.” She closed her eyes tight, fighting for a coherent thought. “Lana, you need help, please—please let me call for help.” 

Shaking her head, Lana’s thick, dehydrated saliva all stuck to itself, inhibiting her speech, but it sounded vaguely like, “Water,” so Mary Eunice dashed to the fridge and got her a bottle of water, cracking it open and holding it up to her mouth. She took a few thirsty gulps. Mary Eunice’s lips trembled. Twin tears rolled down her cheeks. _I should’ve stopped here earlier._ She had wanted to give Lana some space—that was all Lana had asked of her. “Fanks,” Lana mumbled. She folded her elbows up under herself, trying to push herself up, and Mary Eunice took her by the shoulder and guided her upright. “‘M sorry.” 

A trembling, pathetic laugh left Mary Eunice. “Don’t apologize to me! Don’t apologize, please, just let me call someone to make sure you’re okay—” Lana shook her head, a stern refusal. Mary Eunice climbed up onto the couch beside her. “Then I’m not leaving.” _Gus is going to be hungry._ “I have to stay to make sure you’re okay. You _can’t_ mix this medication with alcohol, Lana, you could _die_ .” _Maybe that was her plan,_ Mary Eunice considered after she said it. She put an arm around Lana’s shoulders. “Are you trying to hurt yourself?” she asked quietly, almost like an afterthought. 

Lana gulped, shaking her head. She reached for the water bottle. Mary Eunice placed it in her hand. She drank greedily, thirstily. “No,” she croaked once she had drunk. “I… I just wanted to stop feeling everything for a little while…” 

Mary Eunice tucked her hair behind her ear. “There isn’t a way to stop feeling,” she murmured into Lana’s ear. “That’s not what this is for.” Lana rested her chin on Mary Eunice’s shoulder. Mary Eunice kissed her temple. “You could have called me,” she reminded her gently. “I was worried about you all day.” 

Tears rolled down Lana’s cheeks. “I know.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t deserve it… I don’t deserve anyone as good as you are…” 

“That’s the alcohol talking, sweetie, it’s making you sad. Drink some more water.” 

“I was sad before, now I’m feeling sorry for myself. There’s a difference.” 

Mary Eunice resisted the urge to chuckle in spite of everything. “Well, you can feel sorry for yourself at my apartment.” Lana blinked in confusion. “Gus is going to need me, and I’m _not_ leaving you by yourself.” Lana rubbed her eyes with her fists. “And tomorrow, first thing, I’m driving you to the counseling center, and we’re not leaving until you have a case manager and a therapist.” 

“Is all that really necessary?” Lana’s voice was still thick, drunk, hazy, but she wasn’t nearly comatose like she had been before. That was an improvement. 

“Lana, I don’t want to be taking care of you in a room at Briarcliff… Believe me, it’s vital.” 

Lana licked her lips, which were dry and cracked. “The kitties…” 

“They can come with us.” 

She had no other arguments. Mary Eunice offered her a hand, but Lana didn’t take it as she stood. She wobbled a bit, but she walked in a relatively straight line. Mary Eunice found the cat carrier and loaded up Daisy and the kittens, and they headed to her apartment. 

…

The following weeks passed with more ease than Mary Eunice expected. To her surprise, Lana didn’t fight her again over seeing a therapist—once she was sober, she realized how incredibly lucky she was. Mary Eunice helped her purge her home of alcohol and drugs, and she saw Lana at least once every day. Perhaps it was a lot. But it worked for them. 

Lana stirred from the bed with her one morning in the wee hours before she headed to work. “Lana, it’s five in the morning. Go back to bed.” 

Rubbing her eyes with her fists, Lana shrugged. “I want to have breakfast with you.” For Lana, breakfast was coffee, which Mary Eunice knew by now; she already had a pot brewing. “I’ve got to go feed Daisy, anyway.” The kittens had all gotten spayed and neutered and sent to their forever homes shortly after they turned eight weeks old, and Daisy, too, was recovering from being spayed and slowly gaining pudge from it. “Gus can come with me. I’ll take him on a walk later.” Lana touched the small of Mary Eunice’s back, turning her on the spot, and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Mary Eunice’s heart leapt, but she didn’t dare say anything. She always fluttered when Lana kissed her. 

She kissed Lana back. “I love you,” she said with a smile, and Lana’s face flushed. She never reciprocated the words, but Mary Eunice didn’t expect her to, not yet. It felt good for her to say them, so she said them. She buttered a piece of toast and ate it with an unenthusiastic crunch. The perk of breakfast was not the food—that was always lackluster—but the time spent with Lana, getting to see her peacefully asleep or enjoying the morning conversation with her. “Did you have good dreams?” 

“I hardly ever dream,” Lana said with a shrug. “What about you?” 

“I dreamed about Daisy’s kittens,” Mary Eunice admitted. “Them all in their new homes. I miss them. Maybe we should get more kittens. You know, foster some more, help out at the humane society or something.” 

“Spoken like someone who didn’t wake up in the middle of the night to her cat giving birth on top of her,” Lana drawled, lifting her mug of coffee up to her lips, and Mary Eunice laughed at her bluntness. “But maybe Daisy could use a friend. Especially if I’m going to be staying here some nights. She misses me. Maybe we could stop by the shelter some time this week and get her a buddy. A male.”

“We could name him Donald,” Mary Eunice dreamed.

Lana’s brow quirked. “Like the president?”

Mary Eunice made a face. “No, like the duck. Donald and Daisy Duck.” 

“ _Oh…_ That makes more sense.” Lana considered. “I was thinking Oleander, or Hawthorne. Another plant-related name.” 

“Those are good, too.” Mary Eunice’s phone beeped. She picked it up and slid to a text from Jude, reading only, _Get here asap. Need your help._ She sighed. “That’s Jude. I gotta go.”

“What’s up?”

“Dunno, she didn’t say, but if she’s asking for _my_ help, she’s desperate.” 

“Alright. Well, I’m gonna shower and take Gus and head home, if you want to have lunch together this afternoon.”

“You got it.” Mary Eunice blew her a kiss, but Lana caught her by the hip and spun her around for another deep kiss. Dizziness flooded over Mary Eunice, and she felt giddy all the way out to the car. 

She sped over to Briarcliff, the giddiness fading and being replaced by dread. She emerged on the fourth floor. “Jude?” she called. “I got your text and came right over.” Jude immediately popped up out of the nurses’ station, looking harried. “What’s wrong?” 

“I thought you said you told them he needed to be in maximum security!” she hissed. 

Mary Eunice blinked. “I _did._ I took your advice. I recommended maximum security for him. I wouldn’t lie about something like that.” Jude pointed one accusatory finger out at the dayroom, and in front of the television, right beside Pepper on the couch, rested the murderer Oliver Thredson. Mary Eunice’s knees went weak. She licked her lips. “I—I don’t know what happened. They must have decided against my recommendation.” 

“He is a threat to every patient on this floor!” Jude hissed. _I really don’t like Pepper being that close to him._ “If he puts one _toe_ out of line, he’s going back to maximum. I’ve already got the security guards on high alert. There’s nothing else we can do.”

Mary Eunice nodded. Jude was right. They couldn’t do anything else. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I swear this didn’t have anything to do with me.” 

“I believe you. You can’t lie to save your own life.” Jude’s words cut into her, but Mary Eunice was glad Jude trusted her not to tell lies. 

She approached the two of them in the dayroom. When Pepper saw her, she leapt from her seat and wrapped her arms around Mary Eunice. “Miss Mary!” Mary Eunice patted the top of her head. “Miss Mary, friend.” As she said the word, she pointed to Oliver, who had never looked so small in his hospital clothes and his non-slip socks. 

“Friend?” Mary Eunice repeated. _Maybe this won’t be so bad._ “Good morning, Oliver. Is it true? Are you Pepper’s friend?” 

“One might call it that.” He gave a coy smile. “How are you this morning, Mary Eunice? I can’t help but notice you’re here an hour before your shift is set to start. I hope I didn’t have anything to do with that.” Heat rushed to Mary Eunice’s face. She had no idea what to say to that. “You see, they were going to wait until later in the week to move me, but there’s that new killer coming in—perhaps you’ve heard of him, Kit Walker? He was indicated in more than ten cold cases… Even more prolific than I was.” 

“Yes, I’ve heard,” Mary Eunice said politely. “I’m sure I’ll get to meet him sometime this week when I’m on that floor.” 

“Relay to him my success, if you will… Tell him I’ve reformed, and so can he, if the sun decides to shine his way. The sun, of course, being you.” He winked. Mary Eunice felt her skin crawl all over. Oliver was very different from the angry, violent individual who had entered her care several months ago, but she couldn’t say she preferred the perplexingly calm, totally unshakable, laughably smooth version of him she now had to deal with. 

It was true, more than a month ago she had been prepared to advocate for him in the claim that he was ready for minimum security, but as she stared at him now sitting on the sofa beside innocent Pepper and her Raggedy Ann doll, Mary Eunice had never been more unsettled. “I’ll be sure to convey something to that effect.” She smiled. “I’ll bring you both your menus for the day, alright?” _It’s going to be fine. It’s going to be fine. It’s going to be fine._ She repeated it like a mantra in her head. If she thought it enough, it would come true. If she thought it enough, she could will it into existence. 

The elevator dinged, bringing up the breakfast trays. Mary Eunice picked up Pepper’s to take it to her. “Oliver, come get your breakfast tray, please.” She took two menus and two pencils to the meal table. One by one, the other patients trickled out of their rooms and took their trays to the table. Mary Eunice sat beside Pepper, uncovering her plate of eggs and oatmeal for her. “Okay, Pepper, we’re going to order your lunch and dinner and breakfast for tomorrow, okay?”

Oliver sat beside her, opening up his meal tray. Mary Eunice pretended to ignore the knife in his hand, how he picked it up, how he wielded it. _Knives are considered safe in minimum security._ He never would’ve gotten his hands on one in maximum security. Mary Eunice swallowed hard. Pepper took a bite of her eggs. “So for lunch, you usually have a peanut butter and jelly. Do you want that again, or do you want the meal of the day? It’s fish today.”

Pepper licked her lips, dribbling little bits of egg out. “Peanut butter,” she said with a nod. 

“Alright!” Mary Eunice checked the little box next to the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “And do you want milk to drink, like usual?” Pepper nodded. Mary Eunice checked the box next to it. “Alright. Now, dinner tonight is ham and bean soup again. I remember, I don’t think you liked that very much last week. Are you thinking you want another peanut butter and jelly for dinner?” _We never claimed to feed her the most well-rounded meals._ Pepper was a very picky eater, and Mary Eunice found it easier to accommodate her. “And more milk?” Pepper nodded. “And for breakfast tomorrow?” 

“Mary Eunice?” Oliver interrupted. Mary Eunice turned her head. “I have some questions about tomorrow’s breakfast.”

Resisting the urge to betray her nervousness through a tic, Mary Eunice asked steadily, “What would those be, Oliver? It’s the same menu you had before.” 

“Oh, I know. There’s just something I would like to add.” In a flash, he tackled her, slashing the knife at her. She flung her arms up over her head as she fell backward, shrieking. The knife gave her a long cut across the top of her arm. He seized a handful of her hair, dragging her back upright, but then something—someone—kicked him away. 

Pepper, in all of her tiny might, battered him with her breakfast tray, having dumped the food off of it all over the table and the floor. “Bad friend! Bad!”

Mary Eunice dove toward Pepper, praying she would reach her before Oliver did and drag her to safety. She didn’t. Oliver kicked her over and took a great fistful of her tiny tuft of hair. Mary Eunice opened her mouth, all of the pleas she had ever thought rising up to her lips—surely she could save Pepper, surely she could convince him to spare her—

The knife slid clean across her throat, neat from ear to ear, cutting off her shriek of pain as soon as it began; her larynx was severed. Then, he dropped her and stepped back, opening his palms. The knife clattered to the floor. It had served its duty. Pepper fell to the floor. “ _Pepper!_ ” Mary Eunice pressed her bare hands up against Pepper’s gaping neck, trying to stem the flow of blood. “ _Someone call a doctor!_ ” she shrieked. Brown eyes were already sightless as breath gurgled from the flow of blood pouring across her scrubs. She pressed harder, trying everything to keep the wound from bleeding, but it was too wide for her hands alone to stop it. Someone tossed her a towel, and she pressed it firm against Pepper’s gaping neck wound. “Pepper,” she gasped, “Pepper, it’s okay! It’s going to be okay! Look at me, Pepper, look at me, don’t you want to go see the cat some more? Pepper—cat?”

There was no response. The crash cart wheeled into the room, followed by a stream of doctors and other nurses, and someone took her by the shoulders and dragged her back, out of the way, off of the scene. Mary Eunice shook all over. She couldn’t look up from Pepper’s still body. She didn’t see anything else—not the security guards cuffing Oliver and leading him away, not Jude rushing her to the nurse’s station and pressing clean, dry gauze against the gash in her arm to try to keep it from bleeding everywhere. Nothing. Only Pepper’s empty eyes haunted her memory. “Mary Eunice. Mary Eunice, talk to me.”

She tried to shake herself out of it. “I told them he was dangerous.” Her throat was bone dry. “I told them—” Her voice crackled. “Where is Pepper?” 

“I know, we both told them.” Jude looked down at the gash. She had donned gloves. Mary Eunice didn’t know when she had done that. “This is no use, you’re going to need stitches.”

“I need to find Pepper—she gets lost so easily—” Mary Eunice hiccuped. 

Jude looked at her sadly, and she shook her head. Mary Eunice’s throat tightened up. Jude didn’t say any other words. She didn’t have to. “Come with me, little one. I’ll take you down to emergency. We’ll get this stitched up, and then you can go home…” _I don’t want to go home. I want Pepper._ Her chest ached. It was her job to protect Pepper, and she had failed. _Lana is at home… I want Lana._ She wanted Lana and Pepper and Gus and Daisy and a happy family where no one was hurt and no one was bleeding and nobody ever killed anybody. 

The hospital blurred by her on her way down to the emergency medical department, tiny for the psychiatric hospital. Jude held her hand as they numbed her arm and stitched her up. She didn’t speak. She couldn’t think of what to say. She quivered all over. “Honey, I don’t think you should drive home,” Jude warned her gently. 

“Not gonna.” Mary Eunice’s voice was thick, for her lips were numb. “My girlfriend… She lives across the field… I’ll walk…” It was a walk she had taken so many times with Pepper. Doing it alone—god, that was so incredibly wrong. Blood spatters stained her scrubs and her face and hair. She shivered. “I’ll walk,” she repeated. _Lana. I’ve got to get to Lana._ And she did just that, rising and heading for the door. 

…

Lana was on the porch, reading her newspaper and sipping a second cup of coffee with Daisy on her lap and Gus at her feet. She rocked back and forth. On each rock forward, her foot brushed against Gus’s back, and he wagged his tail for her. She smiled. “We’ll go for a long walk later, Gussy Goosey,” she promised him. “I told Mom we would, so we gotta.” The field rustled in the breeze. She looked up from her paper to watch the wildflowers churn in the breeze, but Mary Eunice’s head floated atop the flowers, a shocked expression upon her. 

She stepped out of the front of the field, revealing her blood-sodden scrubs. Lana launched out of the rocking chair. “Mary Eunice?” She burst through the screen door and jumped off of the porch, dashing toward her. “What the hell? What happened to you?” She looked down at the bandage on Mary Eunice’s arm. “Where did all this blood come from?” Mary Eunice’s astonished face didn’t waver, her blue eyes struggling to follow Lana; they preferred to look out, straight past her, caught up in their memories. “Mary Eunice!” Lana snapped. “What happened?” 

Her tongue darted out, licking her lips. “Pepper is dead.” Her voice petered out before it even reached the end of the sentence. Lana’s heart stopped in her chest at the three words. Mary Eunice rocked back and forth on her heels, threatening to collapse. Lana put an arm around her and guided her to the front of the porch, up the steps, to where Daisy and Gus waited. “He killed her.”

“Who?” Blue eyes found Lana’s face. “The man? You said you were recommending him for maximum security.”

Twin tears slid down her cheeks. “I did,” she whimpered. “They didn’t listen to me… That was why Jude wanted me to come in early…” She hiccuped. “He was going for me, first, he knocked me down, he cut me—and Pepper pushed him off of me.” Her voice quaked. “I tried to get to her first, but he was fuh-faster…” _Oh my god, this can’t be happening._ Lana wrapped her into a tight embrace. Mary Eunice shuddered. “I don’t know what I’m going to do—” Her voice cracked. “She was the whole reason I—I ever even met you.” 

Daisy dragged herself into Mary Eunice’s lap. Gus whined and licked her cheek. “I’m here,” Lana whispered. It was the thing she had needed to hear the most when no one else was there for her. She didn’t have an answer. She didn’t know what was going to happen. She didn’t know what they could do. “We’re together… Whatever happens,” she promised. Whatever they faced, they would face together. It gave Lana solace. She prayed it gave some to Mary Eunice, too. 

…

Months later, Lana and Mary Eunice pulled up into the parking lot of the cemetery. Daisy and Gus hung out in the backseat, Daisy in her new harness which she was learning to enjoy for outdoor excursions. Lana parked the car. She took Daisy by the leash, and the cat jumped out of the backseat of the car. Mary Eunice clipped a leash to Gus’s collar. They both slammed the car doors, locking it behind them. 

They stepped over the bodies of the dead as they walked toward the freshest plot, afforded only a tiny monument to say what it needed to say. Daisy led the way, trotting with her tail up and her ears pricked, like she knew where she was going. Lana kept her leash slack, her right hand clasped tight in Mary Eunice’s left, which bore a pretty diamond. Mary Eunice carried a bouquet of flowers—not fresh cut boutique flowers, but wild ones plucked from the field that separated Lana’s house from Briarcliff. 

The sun curled at the edge of the horizon, casting long shadows from the tombstones. Daisy stopped in front of Pepper’s headstone. The stone listed Pepper’s name, her date of birth and date of death, and then it said, “Beloved friend.” She had meant nothing to anyone else, but to them, she had been a beloved friend, and they ensured that her grave said so. Next to the two words was a tiny drawing of a cat, complete with whiskers. 

Mary Eunice wiped at her tears as they fell. “I wish there was some way we could say thank you,” she whispered. 

“I think she can hear us.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I do.” _I think Wendy can hear us, too._ Lana tilted her head back and looked up at the sky, streaking orange with the sunset. “I think she’s looking after you now. Just like you looked after her for so many years.” 

Mary Eunice leaned forward, placing the bouquet of wildflowers in the vase. “I hope you’re right, Lana.” She lifted her eyes to Lana’s face. “I love you, Lana.”

Lana smiled. “I love you, too.” They kissed, the winds around them whispering joyous laughter of those who had worked so hard to bring them together. 


End file.
